Macross Delta: Pale Shooting Star Sings on the Battlefield - The Songstress Who Bloomed in the Rubble

Pain was all there was in the world. Before his eyes, nothing but pitch black. The dusty air seared his throat. Every breath sent a spike of agony through him, like his broken ribs were stabbing into his lungs. Souma Kakeru lay pinned beneath the rubble, unable to move so much as a finger. Just moments ago, he should have been flying through the sky. He'd commandeered a Siegfried from a dead pilot, somehow managing to move it without even understanding how. And then he'd been shot, shot down—and the next thing he knew, here he was. "[whispers]Ngh..." A voiceless sound escaped his lips. Blood trickling from his temple seeped into his eye, staining his vision red. The old scar on his neck throbbed with fierce pain. (Am I going to die here?) In a world he didn't understand, unnoticed by anyone, a seventeen-year-old high school student was dying. No friends, no chance to see his family again. All alone. That—no. He refused. "[scared]Someone... anyone..." He shouted with a hoarse voice. That was when he heard it. A song. A singing voice, faintly riding the wind. High and clear, a girl's voice. He couldn't understand the words. But he felt as if waves of sound were seeping into his very body. This was—a Fold Wave. Emotional energy transmitted through super-dimensional space. The special singing voice unleashed by the songstresses of the tactical music unit "Walküre." Knowledge he'd read about in anime settings surfaced in his hazy mind. It was strange. Every time he heard that singing voice, a warmth welled up deep behind his eyes. And at the same time, his vision began to clear. A single beam of light slipping through a gap in the rubble. Every tiny speck of dust dancing in that light—he could see it all, with perfect clarity. (There it is again.) His kinetic vision had activated on its own. The dust drifted slowly through the air. As if time itself had been stretched out. His eyes were tracking the trajectories of minuscule particles, so small that no ordinary person could ever see them. The stronger the singing voice grew, the stronger this power became. The Fold Waves were directly stimulating his brain. He could see things many times more clearly than usual. Beyond the rubble, the way the concrete slabs were layered, which steel reinforcements were bent, where the gaps were—all of it flooded into his mind. "[whispers]If I move this..." The steel beam resting above his right shoulder was the weakest point. The concrete mass serving as its fulcrum was already riddled with cracks. If he could just strike that— But his body wouldn't move. He had no strength. He'd lost too much blood. His consciousness was fading again. (No good...) Just as darkness threatened to swallow his vision— CRASH! RUMBLE! A tremendous noise erupted. Someone was pushing aside the rubble. "[excited]Found you! I thought my song was reacting to something... there's still someone alive down here!" A young girl's voice. A heavy slab of concrete was shoved aside, and light suddenly flooded into his eyes. He reflexively squinted. Within that light—a flash of silver hair swayed gently. Straight silver hair, long enough to reach her back. A small braid hanging down on the left side. And from her temples, two slender antennae—her Runes. "[gentle]Are you okay? I'll get you out of here, just hold on." Her crimson eyes softened with kindness. She stretched her small body—maybe a hundred and fifty-three centimeters tall—to its limit, clearing away the rubble piled on top of him. The apple hair ornament she wore made a soft clicking sound. Freyja Wion. A songstress of Walküre. A Windermerean girl. The girl he'd seen in the anime was now right before his eyes. "[scared]Y... you're..." He managed to force out his voice. Freyja looked a little surprised for a moment, then immediately broke into a smile. A smile that bloomed like a flower, bright and sudden. "[surprised]Whoa, you can talk! That's good... you're bleeding a lot from your head, but you're conscious." She promptly tore off the scarf wrapped around her waist. With practiced efficiency, she wound it around his head, staunching the bleeding. Her fingertips trembled slightly. Her Runes glowed with a faint light. "[serious]This might hurt, but please bear with it. I'm definitely going to save you." So saying, she draped his arm over her shoulders. With her small frame, she dragged him out, inch by inch. He still couldn't stand on his own. His legs had no strength; he could do nothing but lean against her. "[worried]Sorry... I must be heavy..." "[gentle]It's fine. More importantly, don't talk. You need to conserve your strength." Somehow, they made it over the mountain of rubble. The battlefield was still chaotic. Explosions echoed in the distance, and the shadows of fighter craft darted across the sky. Yet through it all, Freyja walked straight ahead. Every now and then, her Runes twitched. She was sensing the Fold Waves. Avoiding dangerous areas by pure instinct. (This person is saving me.) Freyja would occasionally peer at his face and call out to him: "[encouraging]Just a little further. Once we reach that air-raid shelter, we'll be safe." But. Looking at that smile, he thought to himself. (Her eyes are looking somewhere far away.) Even though she was smiling, deep within those crimson eyes, there seemed to be a hint of loneliness. Desperately trying to save someone. Almost as if—by doing so, she was holding herself together. (This person is hiding something.) It was pure intuition. Perhaps it was precisely because he'd never really connected with people that he could tell. That behind her smile, there was a shadow. But right now, he didn't even have the strength to ask her about it. --- The next time he became aware, he was lying in a bed. A white ceiling. The smell of disinfectant. An IV tube connected to his arm, bandages wrapped around his head. "[groggy]...Where am I?" He tried to sit up, but a sharp pain shot through his left shoulder, and he immediately gave up. "[serious]You shouldn't be moving." A woman's voice answered. Standing beside the bed was a petite girl with a bob cut of green hair. Goggles were pushed up onto her forehead, and both wrists were wrapped in homemade wristbands for holding tools. Her fingertips were covered in band-aids. Makina Nakajima. The chief maintenance engineer of the Chaos Ragna branch—a genius technician who could talk to machines. "[perplexed]So, what's your deal? No ID, no background. And on top of that, you were found in the cockpit of a busted-up Siegfried. The security troops all think you're a spy." Makina folded her arms and stared intently at his face. "[curious]But see... your biometrics were properly recorded in the piloting log. It shows you boarded during combat and operated the craft, even if it was just for a few minutes. I can't help but be curious about that." She pulled out a tablet terminal and showed it to him. The screen displayed a complex array of graphs and numerical data. Among them was a log labeled "UNKNOWN PILOT." "[amazed]And what's more, this is some seriously amazing piloting. Doesn't look like a first-timer at all. Predicting all the missile trajectories and dodging them with minimal movement. Even the aces of Delta Platoon would have a hard time pulling this off." Makina's large brown eyes sparkled with curiosity. "[excited]So, who are you, really?" "[weakly]...I'm just a high school student." "[skeptical]Right. 'Cause high schoolers totally go around piloting Valkyries on the battlefield. Happens all the time." Makina laughed, looking thoroughly amused. But she didn't press him any further. "[friendly]Well, whatever. I'm Makina Nakajima. Chief of maintenance for Chaos. Your name's Souma Kakeru, right? Heard it from Freyja. For now, just rest. Can't exactly interrogate you until you've got your strength back." So saying, Makina gave the IV tube a light flick with her finger, then left the room. --- Several hours later. When the sun had set and darkness had fallen outside the window. The door to the medical room quietly opened. "[gentle]How are you feeling?" Freyja slipped softly inside. She had changed out of her combat suit and was now wearing a simple white dress. In her hands, two small apples. "[embarrassed]You might not have much of an appetite, but if you can eat... These are Ragna sea-breeze apples. They're sweet and delicious." "[grateful]Thank you..." He pulled his upper body upright and accepted the apple. He took a bite—it was indeed sweet. Cold, and soothing to his parched throat. Freyja sat down in the chair beside the bed and gazed quietly at him. Her Runes flickered faintly, glowing and dimming. "[curious]Hey, Souma. What were you doing on the battlefield? The craft's log didn't have a registered pilot's identification signal. Where did you come from?" "...I don't know." He had no choice but to be honest. "[helpless]The next thing I knew, I was on that battlefield. I don't even understand how I got here myself. I—I might have come from another world." Freyja didn't look surprised. She just nodded quietly. "[knowing]I see... I once heard from an elder in the Kingdom that spatial displacement can sometimes occur due to Fold Wave anomalies. It's extremely rare, but not entirely impossible." And then, she smiled just a little. "[reminiscent]My song reacted to you. Back there, I sensed strange Fold Waves coming from beneath the rubble, and I knew someone was there. Your eyes—they're special, aren't they?" So saying, she peered into his eyes. Those crimson eyes, like rubies, were right up close. "[curious]It's called kinetic vision. Ever since I was a kid, sometimes things would look like they were moving in slow motion... Earlier, too—when I heard your song, suddenly I could see everything around me with perfect clarity." "[interested]I knew it. Walküre's songs can sometimes draw out a person's power through Fold Waves. Especially defensive instincts, or latent abilities. The power of your eyes must have been amplified by that." She took a bite of her apple, then her gaze grew distant. "[wistful]My song being useful to someone... that makes me happy." Looking at her profile, he thought again. (Happy, huh.) (But what lies behind that smile?) "[sincere]Your song saved me. Thank you. I—I want to protect you. I don't know what I can do, but..." Before he knew it, those words had spilled from his mouth. Back in the real world, he'd never been able to say anything like that to anyone. But here, for some reason, he could be honest. For a moment, Freyja looked surprised. Then her face melted into a soft, gentle smile. "[embarrassed]Protect me... but I'm just a songstress." "[firm]Even so. I don't have anything. But these eyes—I'm sure they can be of use to you." Freyja's Runes glowed softly. "[soft]...Thank you." She said it in a small voice. For just a moment, it looked like a genuine smile. But the next instant, she stood up and turned her back to him. "[hurried]Ah, I'm out of time. Sorry, I've been called to the command center. I'll come again tomorrow." "[surprised]Huh? Oh, uh..." Freyja hurried out of the medical room. --- Base Command Center. When Freyja entered, no one else was there. In the center of the spacious room, a large holographic display was installed. As she approached, the communication system activated automatically. Displayed on the screen was— A tall man with long white hair tied back behind him. Eyes as red as blood. Vermilion kumadori makeup accentuating the outer corner of his left eye. Two Runes adorned with gold ornaments, flowing backward from his head. The Crown Prince of the Wind Kingdom of Windermere, Keith Aero Vindermeer. "[cold]You're late, Freyja." His voice carried absolutely no inflection. Freyja straightened her back and cast her gaze downward. "[subdued]I'm sorry. I was tending to the wounded." "[sar

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Episode 2

Name: Macross Delta: Pale Shooting Star Sings on the Battlefield
Author: Novelia

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